The wreath in the downstair's bathroom is the only thing leftover from the Christmas decorations. Sea shells and sticks covered in ice crystals, qualify its stay until February. The house feels a little naked now that the tree is gone along with furry stockings and garlands of greenery that covered windows. For somebody who complains about the work it takes to carry on this unpacking of accumulated Christmas stuff, I should be very happy that it's gone but the kitchen is haunted with sounds of December and it feels lonely. My college girl is back in her dorm room tonight or at least in the town anyway. We spent the day together eating cherry pie with cups of hot coffee and shopping her favorite thrift store like scavengers. She complained that the school had erased her files on the computer and made her restart everything. I couldn't help but notice how strong her confidence had become and how eager she was to return to her new friends. Last semester, I had to pull her off of me.
Driving into the town, I remembered the basketball game was being played with over 17,000 spectators. The traffic would be terrible and the car was filled to the brim. As soon as we pulled into the parking lot, Gavin phoned that he'd be waiting by the front door with a cart so I wouldn't have to get out. I drove away right before the police barricaded the area! (yikes, the radio just started playing upstairs due to a power surge)
Ah, I breathe, the music is saying, "what a day, what a day, the wild child" and I'm reminded that this crazy old world really is perfect. January is the month to reflect. I won't make new year's resolutions. Instead, I plan to delete the bad, restart everything, build my confidence and enjoy second semester. Hopefully, in the end, I'll be graded on the curve.
We went to that game! (It was thrilling to be in Allen Field House!) Yes, the traffic was terrible. I didn't think about the fact that some students would just be returning to campus yesterday and would have to beat the crowds. Our son returned to college last weekend, where all of his friends were. When they get apartments (paid for by Mom and Dad), they often return earlier to "home" as my son called it. That stung a little. I thought where we lived was his home!
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